


First, Second, Third

by tamerofdarkstars



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Fluff, Kisses, M/M, kink meme fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 20:03:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1317508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamerofdarkstars/pseuds/tamerofdarkstars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Filled the following prompt:</p><p>"The first time it happens, neither of them is as drunk as they pretend to be.</p><p>The second time it happens, Chuck is pretty sure that Raleigh took him on a date first.</p><p>The third time it happens, they've given up pretending that it's anything other than what it is."</p>
            </blockquote>





	First, Second, Third

**Author's Note:**

> Long time lurker, first time writer - I love this movie and the world it created, so hopefully I've done the characters and the prompt justice.

The first time it happens, neither of them is as drunk as they’re pretending to be.

Chuck yanks his head away, slamming the back of his hand over his lips as he stares, wide-eyed, at Raleigh. He can feel his ears burning hot and knows they’re bright scarlet. Raleigh, for his part, is staring where Chuck’s lips would be if they weren’t smushed behind his hand, swaying slightly on his feet. His cheeks and lips are tinged red and Chuck drops his hand, swallowing.

“You’re…” He motions at Raleigh, waving his hand vaguely in the other Ranger’s direction.

“Drunk?” Raleigh snickers, batting Chuck’s fingers away. Around them, the party continues, glasses clinking and people laughing but no one is paying a lick of attention to two of the Rangers who saved the world.

“Stupid.” Chuck announces, pleased he came up with an insult. He wasn’t drunk – just buzzed enough to loosen up a bit, actually – but apparently, Raleigh had been hitting the bar a little harder than he had, because he’d just—

“You’re drunk too, kid.” Raleigh slurs as Chuck feels his face heat, the memory of Raleigh’s lips on his just a little too much to handle right now.

Then the words make it through.

“Not a kid, _Rah_ leigh.” Chuck snarls, and grabs Raleigh by the back of the neck, yanking him forward and crashing their lips together.

Raleigh makes a muffled noise and grabs at Chuck’s hips, scrabbling to pulling him in closer.

If he were a better person, he’d feel guiltier about this. Chuck is clearly way drunker than he was, or he’d be punching him in the mouth instead of kissing his breath away. But Raleigh has had just enough to drink to grease his bad decisions, and he isn’t about to deny himself something he’s wanted for so damn long. Just one little kiss, right?

Neither notice the heat of the kiss melting into something different, something a little quieter. Neither notice Raleigh’s fingers tightening in the fabric at Chuck’s hips, or the way Chuck’s fingers loosen their tight grip on the back of his neck until they’re buried in soft hair instead.

Neither is going to remember this in the morning.

After all – they’re drunk.

-

The second time it happens, Chuck is pretty sure Raleigh took him on a date first.

Chuck had actively avoided anywhere public the morning after he woke up with dry mouth and lips that tasted like Raleigh Becket. He’d stayed in bed all day, staring at his ceiling and thinking. Did Raleigh remember last night? Should he admit to remembering, or just ignore it?

Becket had been drunk – not thinking straight. Neither had he. Alcohol can make people do crazy things, right?

He walks into the cafeteria two days after the party, and spots Raleigh sitting next to Herc, munching on a breakfast of scrambled eggs and chatting with his father.

Chuck nearly spins on his heel and bails, but Max spots him first and launches towards his owner with as much enthusiasm as an aging bulldog can muster and, well, Chuck can’t just abandon Max, now can he?

He drops to his knees and dutifully gives his puppy the respect and attention he deserves, completely ignoring the table just a few feet away where his father and the man he… and Raleigh Becket are chatting amiably about times gone by. Or whatever it is that old men talk about.

“Chuck.”

Speaking of Raleigh Becket. Chuck looks up, continuing to rub his greedy dog’s belly with one hand. He realizes quickly that he’s at eye-level with Raleigh’s crotch and jerks his head up so fast he nearly cricks his neck.

Raleigh is wearing that lumpy blue sweater again, and his hair is a little bit windswept, like he’s been sneaking out onto the flight decks again, but he’s smiling and Chuck’s chest does that thing, that annoying clenching thing that he’s only felt a few times before in snatches of memories that weren’t his.

“How’re the eggs, _Rah_ leigh?” Chuck drawls his name on purpose, enjoying the way Raleigh’s lips twitch as he intentionally stresses the first syllable of his name.

“Little rubbery.” Raleigh shrugs, dropping down and scratching at Max’s ears. His dog, the traitor, leans his head into Raleigh’s hand and nuzzles against his fingers. Raleigh smiles fondly down at the dog and Chuck’s heart flips in his chest.

He catches a glimpse of Herc just behind Raleigh, still sitting at the table. The old man is smirking, shaking his head as he eats his eggs, and Chuck nearly groans, because damn, that is gonna be one embarrassing drift.

“So?”

Chuck drags himself back to the conversation, blinking at Raleigh. The other Ranger looks uncharacteristically nervous, running his fingers through his hair and scratching at the back of his head awkwardly.

“Huh?” Chuck gives Max one last pat and the dog rolls up onto his feet, shaking himself. Raleigh lets his hand drop and Max trots towards Herc. “Spit it out, Raleigh.”

Raleigh brushes off his pants, picking at some of the dog hair. “I asked if you wanted to go find somewhere that made palatable eggs.”

Chuck blinks at him for a second, the thought of real, actual food overriding everything else in his head. “Hell yeah, are you kidding? Been here for my whole life, and they still haven’t learned to fry a damn egg.”

He gets to his feet, and Raleigh grins, straightening up with him. “Excellent. Meet me in the garage in ten minutes?”

He’s gone, and Chuck is halfway to his room when he stops, dead, in the middle of the hallway.

Did Raleigh Becket just ask him out to breakfast?

The thing is, though, it’s nice. Breakfast is nice. They sneak off the base and find a little place downtown that actually serves a decent bacon and eggs combo. Raleigh eats his eggs with ketchup and Chuck spends at least a quarter of their breakfast making fun of him for it. They talk about engines and _Gipsy_ and _Eureka_ and literature and before long, their coffee is cold and they both have missed calls wondering what the hell happened to them.

It takes Chuck most of the next two days to come to terms with the fact that he might have just gone out on a date with Raleigh Becket.

Of course, once he realizes it (in the middle of sparring too – the cadet had put him on his ass and then squeaked fearful apologies while he blinked at the ceiling) he can’t let Raleigh have the last word. It has nothing to do with the fond warmth that pools in his chest when he thinks of the way Raleigh’s eyes sparkled as they tore apart Charles Dickens over their rapidly cooling breakfasts.

So he decides to return the favor, and finally finds Raleigh messing around with the cars in the auto garage.

“Oi, Becket.”

There’s a thud and a squeak, and Raleigh rolls out from under the car, face twisted in bewildered pain as he rubs his head.

Chuck shifts backwards onto his heels. “What the hell are you doin’ under there?”

Raleigh shrugs, pushing himself up on his elbows. “I like machines. Like working on them.”

 _No shit._ Chuck resists the urge, spying the vulnerability in Raleigh’s eyes and remembering what he had tracked the other Ranger down to do in the first place. Chuck crosses his arms and Raleigh blinks up at him, all grease-stained tank top and bright eyes and oh hell.

“Eggs.”

Raleigh stares at him. “What?”

Really, Hansen? Really? Chuck presses his lips together in frustration and growls. “You’re not eating in the cafeteria tonight.”

Raleigh blinks and then he gets it. His lips curve into a slow, knowing smile until his entire face lights up. “Oh, I’m not, am I?”

Chuck hates how much he doesn’t hate him in that moment. “No. Clean up, we’re going to the city.”

Raleigh pushes himself all the way up, tossing the wrench into the nearby toolbox with a clang. “Alright.”

“Alright?” Chuck clears his throat. “I mean, alright.”

Raleigh is still smiling, that weird smile that was laced with _something_ that Chuck couldn’t quite put a finger on and Chuck can feel himself sweating just a little bit. “What?” He snaps.

Raleigh wipes his hands on his pants, smearing grease, before he steps in close, grips Chuck’s shoulder, and pecks a brief kiss right on Chuck’s open mouth, lingering just long enough for Chuck to taste him.

Chuck makes a strangled noise but Raleigh pulls back too quickly for him think, let alone react. Raleigh’s ears are red but he’s still grinning that same damn smile.

Chuck stares at his lips, face tingling.

“I’ll meet you on the deck in twenty.” Raleigh says, and strides off across the garage.

Unable to find his voice, Chuck closes his mouth and kicks the toolbox shut before he follows him, boot clomps echoing off the garage walls. No way to blame _that_ kiss on alcohol.

-

The third time it happens, they give up pretending it’s anything other than it is.

Chuck had dragged Raleigh down the hall to his room with the intentions of finally doing something about the clenching in his chest every time he spots Raleigh walking down the hallway, sparring in the gym, laughing with the _Gipsy_ techs, hell, every time Raleigh does anything at all.

But instead of ravishing him to pieces like Chuck had been fantasizi— _planning_ , Raleigh had put a movie on the big screen in the corner and crawled onto the couch, a ball of lumpy sweater and puppy eyes and what choice does Chuck have but to sigh dramatically and fall onto the cushion next to him. He slings an arm across the back of the couch and Raleigh does what he’d hoped he’d do and settles down in the crook of his arm, tipping his head back against Chuck’s upper arm.

The movie begins, but Chuck has seen it a thousand times and is far more interested in the way Raleigh is leaning against him, the way their bodies are pressed knee to shoulder as they slump backwards into the sagging cushions.

“What’s this movie about?” Raleigh mumbles.

“You put it on, dumbass, you didn’t read the box?”

“Nah.”

Chuck scoffs and if the motion makes his arm slip from the top of the cushions to down around Raleigh’s shoulders, well, that’s not his fault. His fingers find a hole in Raleigh’s sweater and tug at it gently, playing with it. Raleigh makes a pleased little mumble and Chuck turns his head slightly until his nose bumps the top of Raleigh’s head, burying itself in the fluffy blonde hair.

“It’s about a hero.” Chuck whispers into Raleigh’s hair. “It’s about a badass hero who stops at nothing to protect everyone around him. It’s about the people that love him.”

“Sounds cheesy.”

“Well, it’s also got a wicked car chase, so there’s that.”

Raleigh snorts, shoulders shaking and Chuck can’t help himself. He leans in close – and with how close they’d already been, what’s a little more? – and presses a dry, close-lipped kiss to Raleigh’s hairline.

He’s strangely nervous, but when Raleigh stills suddenly, going stiff under his lips, Chuck’s heart throbs painfully in his ears and he retreats so fast he practically leaves a smoke trail.

But Raleigh is pushing himself up, putting space between them and Chuck feels the deep thud of panic pound in his chest and no no _no_ , this was all going so _well_ …

Hadn’t it been?

Then Raleigh’s fingers are cool against his cheek and his lips are warm and soft and Chuck just catches the light of the movie playing shadows across Raleigh’s cheekbones before his eyes slide shut and he loses himself in the moment.

Chuck Hansen is going to treat kissing Raleigh Becket just like he treats everything else – a challenge. But that’s before Raleigh’s hand slides up his cheek into his hair, curling his fingers around the back of his neck and Chuck catches his upper arm, sliding his middle finger into the hole in the sweater and tilting his head. Raleigh is warm, kissing him with a slow intensity that’s sending tingles all the way up Chuck’s spine from his toes to the tips of his fingers.

They part for air, lips coming apart with a soft noiseless whisper, and it takes Chuck half a beat to muster the courage to open his eyes.

Raleigh is beaming, eyes bright and lips cherry red.

“Hi.” Raleigh breathes, warm and wet against Chuck’s lips.

“Hey.” Chuck whispers back. His voice is hoarse and he’s glad they’re whispering because he doesn’t trust his voice to go any louder. They’re silent for a few moments, forehead to forehead, breathing each other’s air while the television plays out its drama.

Chuck finally breaks the silence, because as much as he doesn’t want to, he needs to. “The hell is this, Becket?” He asks, hating the question, hating himself for asking, hating the terrified thump his heart makes when he thinks about the answer.

Raleigh blinks at him, his nose scrunching a bit in confusion. “It’s us. If… you know, if you want it to be us.”

Us. The word sends a sweep of feeling through Chuck, a sweep of tingling emotion swirling in his stomach and he lurches forward, needing to taste Raleigh again right that instant. Raleigh laughs against his lips, tugging him backwards until Chuck is pressing him down into the old cushions.

It’s the best damn word Chuck has heard in a long time.

-

They wake the next morning tangled together in the sagging couch, with Max nosing his way between them enthusiastically, and as Raleigh laughs, the noise rusty and thick with sleep, Chuck can’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be, as cheesy as the sentiment is.

His stomach growls and he groans, dropping his head back to the crook of Raleigh’s arm where it’s been resting. Raleigh snickers.

“Come on. Shower then breakfast.” He nudges Chuck, who pushes his heels into the arm of the couch to stay put. He leans up, nosing his way up Raleigh’s collarbone and kissing the side of his neck until finally their lips meet, soft and easy and it’s nothing like he thought it would be and everything he’s ever dreamed.

But most importantly, it’s nothing but what it is – them.


End file.
